


Sorry For The Mess (Hey, I Don't Mind)

by cadenzamuse



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Author Has Foster Care Feels, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 13:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19442137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadenzamuse/pseuds/cadenzamuse
Summary: Kent has heard that moving when you have a kid is sheer hell, which is probably why he offers to babysit Jack's while Jack is house-hunting.





	Sorry For The Mess (Hey, I Don't Mind)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_rocket_frost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_rocket_frost/gifts).



> Dear blue_rocket_frost,
> 
> I really enjoyed this assignment. I swear in my head they end up figuring out the dating-with-a-kid thing, as in your prompt, but they were just not having it while I was writing.
> 
> This fic kinda took a village. Thank you to Cakes and Raven, who helped me brainstorm, as well as to Lire, larenoz, and the whole Roswell New Mexico 18+ server, who whipped my butt into shape on writing this even though none of them are in this fandom. Title from Vance Joy's "Mess is Mine." Most of Josiah's dialogue stolen straight from my toddler's mouth.

Kent has heard from Pebbles that moving when you have a kid is sheer hell, which is probably why he has a new text window open with Jack’s name at the top. On the other hand, Kent has heard from  _ Jack _ approximately nothing about either the kid or the moving, which is why that text window has been open for a good ten minutes. Eventually he sighs, and taps Jack’s name, then “audio.” He’s always been better at communicating when he has some room to bullshit.

The phone rings three or four times, enough that Kent is pretty sure he’s going to be leaving either the most abrupt or the most rambly voicemail of all time. He’s caught off guard when Jack’s voice says, “Hello?”

“Uh, hey Zimms, sorry, thought I was gonna get your voicemail.”

“Kent.”

Well that’s a fucking promising start. Shit. “I was just calling to see if you needed any help with, uh, finding a place, or, like, moving or whatever. I hear it’s supposed to be harder with a rugrat, and, uh, anyway, if there’s anything I can do to make it easier, let me know, yeah?” He takes a quick breath: time to wrap this up. “Anyway, I should--

“Kent,” Jack says again, and Kent stumbles to a stop. “I’m house-hunting this weekend. How are you with toddlers?”

*

By the time Jack arrives at Kent’s house on Saturday, Kent’s house is a toddler-proof fortress. Pebbles and his wife Rosie have crawled around installing outlet covers and moving various objects of interest to higher shelves. 

Kent is usually pretty comfortable with kids--being the oldest of four will do that to you--but this time he’s not sure what to expect. Jack had gone pretty much radio silent after his and Eric’s breakup hit the news. Hell, due to the legal issues around foster kids, Kent doesn’t even know Jack’s kid’s  _ name _ .

Kent is hovering near the front door a good half hour before Jack + Mini-Jack are scheduled to arrive, but he’s not surprised when the doorbell rings ten minutes early. He makes himself stand just around the corner and count to fifteen before he opens it.

Christ, Kent had forgotten how  _ big _ Jack is. Four years in the Show has bulked out his lean frame, and with the Falcs exiting the playoffs first round this year, he’s had a couple months to gain some off-season weight. Kent wants to climb him like a tree.

Which is so not appropriate right now, because a small child with a halo of coily hair has their face buried in Jack’s neck. “Jo, I gotta breathe,” Jack says in an amused tone, bouncing the kid on his hip slightly so that Kent can see part of their face. “Shift around.” Big eyes and up-turned nose greet Kent from a solemn brown face.

“Kenny, this is my son, Josiah Zimmermann,” Jack says. “JoJo, this is Kent.” For a moment, father and son regard Kent with looks of suspicion so identical that Kent bursts out laughing.

“Well, he sure looks related to you, Zimms! Hi, Josiah, you can call me Kenny, or uh, Mr. Kenny, or Parse, or whatever your dad wants you to call me.”

Kent tips a questioning look at Jack, who says gruffly, “Kenny’s fine.” This prompts Josiah to mumble something against Jack’s ear, and Jack grins unexpectedly. “Jo says ‘Kenny’s’ a type of cat. Nah, bud, that’s kitty. Kent has one or two of those around here.”

“Absolutely,” Kent says. “Want to go find them?”

*

It turns out that once he warms up to a new person, Josiah Zimmermann is a ham. By the time Jack returns several hours later, Kent and JoJo are making use of Kent’s sick stereo setup to blast “Let It Go” at top volume. They have also “borrowed” the Elsa kid costume that Kent keeps in the guest room closet on the insistence of Pebbles’ daughters, Catalina and Clara.

Kent doesn’t actually notice Jack is back until he hears Jack’s chuckle from the hallway. “What the fu...dge are you wearing, Kenny?”

Kent is wearing an “Elsa wig” that he and Josiah constructed out of pipe cleaners. “Papa!” Josiah yells, and heads for Jack at full speed. “Kenny is Elsa! He has a wig like me!”

“Oh he does, does he?” Jack asks, catching Josiah and spinning him around. Mid-spin, he catches Kent’s eye with a smirk that is so clearly a chirp that it does something funny to Kent’s insides.

“He has! He has!” Josiah shrieks. Listening to Jack and JoJo giggle, so clearly comfortable with each other, so obviously a family, transforms Kent’s thirst for Jack into a different, softer kind of ache.

“Oof, okay, all done,” Jack says, and helps Josiah slither out of his grip down to the floor. “Can you go play for a minute? I need to talk to Kenny.”

“How was house-hunting?” Kent asks. He and Jack have a conversation about the pros and cons of Summerlin, Hendo, and Southern Highlands in thirty second intervals as JoJo bounces back and forth between playing and wanting either his dad’s or Kent’s attention.

Kent is surprised at how good it feels, catching up on Jack’s day while JoJo ricochets happily around the den like a three-year-old pinball. He loves Pebbles’ kids, but usually he is more than ready for them to get out of his space by the time he’s done babysitting. Josiah feels like he fits, the part of Kent’s brain that still labels Jack as belonging wherever Kent does seeming to cover Jack’s son as well.

“Anyway,” Jack says finally, “we should get out of your hair, eh? I’m glad he was so good for you today, I know he can be a handful.”

Before he even thinks about it, Kent finds himself making excuses for them to stay longer. “Honestly, Zimms, it was no problem. He’s a beauty. I hate to make him pack it in now. You’re totally welcome to stay for dinner, maybe put him down in the guest room after? Pebbles and Rosie hang out here pretty often, let their three crash out so they can get some grown-up time, so there’s a Montessori floor bed and nothing that can get him into too much trouble if he wanders.”

It’s only because Kent’s watching closely that he catches the flash of surprise on Jack’s face, but Jack only says, “Yeah, sure. If we’re not putting you out.”

“Nah,” Kent says. “Gotta catch up on your life, bro. Come on, let’s go check my fridge, see what Jo’s dinner options are.”

*

“--so I told Eric that I still wanted to be a dad  _ now _ and that was practically the end. I mean, we reopened right after we got knocked out and they called about JoJo in, euh, late April? Early May? And Bittle was gone by the beginning of the season.”

Josiah is sleeping peacefully (or at least not making noise) in the kid guest room, and Jack and Kent are sprawled out in the den, enjoying some well-deserved beers.

“Bro, that’s rough. Is he...Uh, how is he? Josiah? He would have been two?”

“Almost two and a half, yeah. He’s had a pretty rough time, but I’m a millionaire. He’s got PT, OT, speech, you know, all the specialists he could need. I never had any issue getting him services. Some of my friends, you know, from the support group, they say it takes them months to get these referrals. I think I probably get the celebrity treatment.”

“But, I mean, at least that way JoJo gets what he needs, yeah?” Kent says. “And you guys...Look, I know there’s all kinds of systemic shit, but I really do admire what you’re doing. I just think you’re a really good dad, and Josiah is an amazing kid. I’m, uh, I’m really glad you guys are here.” Kent blinks a few times, surprised to feel his eyes burning, then manages a half-smile at Jack. “And here’s to return of the Parson-Zimmermann no-look one-timer, yeah? Cheers!”

Jack smirks at him, and says, “It’s Zimmermann-Parson, asshole.” It’s exactly what Kent wanted to hear.


End file.
